


Afterglow

by L3245



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: "mystery", Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Angst, Drama, Everything is Beautiful and Everything Hurts, F/F, F/M, Magic, Misuse of Miraculous Powers (Miraculous Ladybug), Romance, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-01
Updated: 2020-05-01
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:02:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23938090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/L3245/pseuds/L3245
Summary: It fit him well, though not as well as it should. Still, Adrien was obviously happy with it. He had fingered the ends of that sky-blue scarf shyly, a blush dusting his cheeks. And that look he gave her—Marinette had felt her heart stutter at the mixture of admiration, bashfulness, and innocent longing. He was the happiest she’d ever seen him.She would move worlds to preserve that look.-or-Marinette thinks she understands Hawkmoth a little better now.
Relationships: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug
Comments: 10
Kudos: 46
Collections: April 2020 - AU





	Afterglow

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sagansjagger](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sagansjagger/gifts).



> Written for cassandrasfisher#8811 at the Miraculous Ladybug Discord April 2020 Challenge.

Adrien Agreste and Marinette Dupain-Cheng first met in the winter of last year.

It was five minutes until closing and he had stumbled into their empty café looking a bit lost and worse for wear. The cold had made his eyes bright and watery, his cheeks and ears whipped into pink submission. And it was no wonder. The blonde had looked like he just walked out of the house without a care for the weather: only a thin jacket, a single old band T-shirt underneath that, some old ripped pants. His green eyes met her blues for the first time across the room then, wide-eyed panic meeting equally wide-eyed surprise. Seeing him like that, she knew he had been crying.

“I—” he began, right as she opened her mouth to say, “You—”

They both stopped, flustered, before trying again with “Is this place cl—” and “What are you d—” Another pause.

“You first,” they said in unison. He had looked like he wanted to laugh, or cry, or both in the silence after. She wasn’t much better. She wondered who was trembling worse back then.

“Is it okay if I hide out here for a bit?” he asked, sounding embarrassed and desperate. “I know you’re closed, but the light was still on, and…” He had looked so unsure then, had even taken a small step back so as not to inconvenience her.

“No!” Marinette cried out. Jade green eyes widened, hurt, but in a way that looked like he expected it. An expression like that had no business on his face. Quickly, she amended, “No, we’re not—we’re not closed. You can stay. Um, over here, let me—” She moved to take down the chairs off one of the tables. In her rush, Marinette clumsily bumped her hip into the corner and winced. The chair slipped from her grip…

…only to be held steady with a firm grip on her waist and another on the chair. He offered her a sheepish grin, and she _melts._

They first met in the winter of last year, making it only one year and five months that they have known each other. He had been shy, with a quiet confidence to his every move that was telling of his loving upbringing. She had been a nervous wreck, typical for her, but even more so because it was _him._ Adrien Agreste.

He had borne his soul to her then, a mere stranger, about his life, about his slight concerns at his career choice and his loving, but stressful relationship with his father. She had listened to it all, knowing just when to keep quiet and when to subtly coax more off his chest. Hours later, she had offered him a scarf when he finally made to leave.

“No one wears it. Keep it,” she insisted. Her eyes implied, _or else._

“But it’s so well-made, how can I—okay, okay, you win, haha.” He had easily caved under her playful glare.

It fit him well, though not as well as it should. Still, Adrien was obviously happy with it. He had fingered the ends of that sky-blue scarf shyly, a blush dusting his cheeks. And that look he gave her—Marinette had felt her heart stutter at the mixture of admiration, bashfulness, and innocent longing. He was the happiest she’d ever seen him.

She would move _worlds_ to preserve that look.

-x-

Adrien is early today at the café Marinette ran. He perks up upon seeing her, his already thousand-watt smile cranking up a several notches. “Marinette! Hey! I have something to show you today,” Adrien said enthusiastically.

Before Marinette can react, he rushes over to her to wrap his arms around her tiny frame. A light blush comes to her cheeks like always before she smiles and hugs him back. He smells like the sun, warm and airy, with undertones of agarwood and oak moss. She breathes in and savors this moment for as long as she can.

“What is it, Adrien?” she asks, sounding playfully exasperated at his affections. He pulls away and brings up his right hand where a familiar ring rested.

“Ta-da,” the blonde model said in a singsong. “Father and I had a talk last night. He’s supportive of the engagement and we’re going to announce it in three days. Until then, I finally get to wear this overpriced rock out in public, haha.”

_Oh._

A beat of silence as he waits for her response. Then--“Oh, Adrien, that’s wonderful! I’m so relieved to hear that,” Marinette gushes, sounding overly excited.

“Right? It feels like it took him forever to accept the relationship and see our feelings as genuine,” he replies, exasperated and unnoticing her too-sunny demeanor. Adrien then chuckles, and continues with a shrug, “Though I suppose it’s not too bad because it comes with good intentions. Father was just being overprotective again. Mother really helped him come around.”

“Mrs. Agreste to the rescue again, I see. That’s great,” Marinette repeats, still smiling. Her cheeks were starting to hurt. “I am so happy.”

-x-

Adrien Agreste first remembered meeting Marinette Dupain-Cheng in the winter of last year.

They had both been trembling then, but for different reasons. His: his body’s natural response to both the freezing winds and the fight-or-flight feeling from evading the Gorilla. Hers: anticipation and shock at finally seeing him face-to-face because it’s been _twenty-two years in this world_ , and she has been _waiting._

He is usually slow to open to others, having grown up home-schooled, but Marinette knew his mannerisms inside out. She knew just what to say to get him to spill what he obviously wanted to. It’s cheating, manipulating him like this so easily, but she knew him best. Adrien needed to talk and have someone to listen, so Marinette would be everything he needed without knowing.

She calls him ‘Adrien’ before he even gives her his name. At his surprise, Marinette quickly— _too quickly_ —lies and says that she’s just a fan of fashion and has seen his name crop up here and there.

When she gave him her gift, Marinette neglected to mention that not only did no one wear it, no one had _ever_ worn it. The blue scarf had been stored in a bedside chest immediately after its creation, waiting for the day when its one and only could claim it.

She left out a lot of things when they talked, including the sinking, crushing, feeling in her chest when he asked her, with all the feeling of someone who admired and liked her _platonically:_

“I want to propose to my girlfriend, but she’s not a part of the fashion industry, and her family isn’t… rich. My father is against it. What do you think I should do? My family is important to me, but I really love her.”

-x-

After seating Adrien, she steps into the kitchen to fetch his order.

The first thing she sees is Luka Couffaine. Handsome and two years older than her, he is a quickly rising musician and part-time worker for her café. _He is also,_ she thinks a little guiltily back to the text she had gotten earlier, _something… else._

Not more. _Else_.

He’s a lovely sight anyways. He is making cinnamon-swirl bread. While not a traditional French pastry, Luka was fond of it because the sugary cinnamon reminded him of her freckles—though she tasted _much_ sweeter, he insisted shamelessly. It had made her giggle at the time, had eased the hurt of knowing Adrien was spoken for.

He is a bandage on a gaping wound.

“Hey Marinette. You look happy,” Luka greets her warmly, his cerulean eyes soft as a knowing smile tugs at his lips. The blue-haired baker is methodically flattening bread dough with a rolling pin, but he pauses to lean back and peek out into the eating area. After a moment, he shrugs, saying amusedly, “It’s a bit early, but since Kagami’s already here, tell her to come to the back. I want both of you lovely ladies to try something for me.”

“Actually, I just wanted to ask if we had any cheese danishes. Kagami’s not here,” Marinette says quickly. She can’t quite keep the guilt out of her voice, and Luka’s eyes hardened for a split second before he turns away.

In a cooler voice, “I see. There’s a batch cooling on the racks.” He goes back to the dough with a tiny dejected turn to his lips that was easily missed if you weren’t looking for it.

“Okay. Thanks Luka.”

“Whatever you say, boss.”

Marinette presses a quick kiss to Luka’s cheek before she goes for the pastries, but it feels like more of a distracted, insincere apology than a thank-you. From the looks of it, he knows, and lets her go.

-x-

Watching Adrien Agreste’s— _Chat Noir’s—_ funeral from a distance, an older Marinette thinks she understands Hawkmoth a little better now.

Her partner’s face was the most expressionless its been amongst the camera flashes of the large crowd that’s gathered. He’s not smiling like he did for the photoshoots, and he’s not grinning wolfishly like he did for the news outlets. Adrien Agreste is emotionless, too-pale, dead, and it’s _wrong._

Victory shouldn’t feel like this.

They were supposed to be together as a real couple after Hawkmoth’s defeat. Adrien, her sweet prince, was supposed to finally be free of his burdens. She had promised to help him work things out with his father once and for all, maybe see about helping him find his place in the fashion industry because he _did_ love it in a way, even if he was unsure about it because it had always been chosen for him. He was supposed to be happy.

Now he’s dead, and she’s watching them close his casket.

Marinette looks down at the ring on her finger. The Black Cat Miraculous was a small, black band on her tiny finger. It nearly blended in with the black spots of her Ladybug suit. Right now, in this moment, she held both the powers of creation and destruction.

It was the ultimate power, the one that shapes reality. You only get one wish, but with that wish you could do _anything_. However, there would be a price to pay. The universe needed to maintain its balance, and whatever she wished for would be taken from someone else.

She’s selflessly served Ladybug for Paris—the _world—_ for the better part of her life. She deserves to be selfish just once, right? The price didn’t matter. Chat Noir was owed everything for the shitty card he was dealt. The loser would just have to suck it up and give Paris’s heroes their due.

Her wish: that in another world, another life, she would be together with a happy Adrien.

_I’ll see you again soon._

-x-

She easily sets the freshly baked cheese danish and a cup of espresso, black, with no sugar on the table.

It’s an odd combination, the pastry with its light, cheesy sweetness and the intensity of the pure black coffee. It’s a selfish combination, a quiet hope that somehow, someway, Adrien would see the cheese and think _Plagg, kwami, stinky camembert,_ or that he would raise an eyebrow at the black coffee and think _black, noir, Chat Noir._ It’s a last-ditch effort of getting him to remember _her,_ without actually poking at the fabric of this world hard enough for it to tear.

But without even a shred of recognition, “Thank you so much, Marinette! For—everything, really. You’ve been a really good friend.”

His hand reaches out to cover hers. The diamond of his ring glitters prettily in the morning light. Adrien beams at her.

Marinette has sacrificed so much for Adrien’s sake.

Tom and Sabine Dupain-Cheng both died in a freak car accident that left her the only survivor. Her entire life, she had been shuffled between a grandmother that wanted to care, but couldn’t care enough, and a grandfather that cared, but didn’t want to show it out of deep-seated resentment.

Her inspiration and skills were stripped away, and with it her dreams of fashion. She opened a blank page and saw absolutely nothing to draw. Every attempt at design ended with hours passing by, numerous cuts and tiny needle stab wounds, mangled lines on a page, and nothing to show for it.

She never _felt_ romantic attachment anymore. Kagami and Luka were close, but not enough. They would never be able to fill the deep, gaping hole in her heart that’s been carved out for another.

Her happiness was taken in exchange for his, and his happiness blinded him to her suffering.

He is like the sun, so bright and beautiful and it _hurts_. It wasn’t fair that he could affect her like this, this Adrien-that-was-not-hers, this Adrien-that-replaced, this Adrien-that-would-never-be. Marinette has moved _worlds_ for him, but he will never know. In this world, Adrien was not her trusted partner with shared years of love and laughter. He will never be her kitty, her prince again. His ignorance made him as happy as much as it brought her pain—was he really so much better off without her? Without the influence of Miraculous?

But… if she squints against that light, if she focuses on the warmth of that smile, Marinette thinks she can handle it. Does Adrien really have to know the depth of her sacrifice for him? No. He didn’t. He is alive, well, and happy. Without Miraculous, Adrien has a caring family and loving fiancé. He loves his job. He cares for her, even if only platonically.

Marinette… can be content with this world.

She smiles back.

“You’re welcome, Adrien.”

**Author's Note:**

> I hope it wasn't too bad, haha. Thank you for reading, and thank you cassandrasfisher for enabling my angsty rants.
> 
> In case there's some confusion because of the poor nonlinear storytelling, some clarifications:  
> -Adrien/Chat Noir dies in Universe A  
> -Marinette combines Plagg and Tikki to destroy the world and create Universe B for Adrien  
> -She pays the price  
> -But Adrien is happy ig  
> -But is he really  
> -Lukagaminette is a "thing" that should have been given more time to be honest  
> -I don't think these two will ever find happiness in a fic I write


End file.
